Concepts of Dimension
by Blaithin-mae
Summary: A world where his parents were alive seemed ideal. Until Harry actually found himself there; apparently things could be worse without Voldermort.


**Summary: **_A world where his parents were alive seemed ideal. Until Harry actually found himself there; apparently things could be worse without Voldermort. (Slash and het. Adult content. Some disturbing references.) _

* * *

There was something constricting him.

Holding him and pinning him down, his left arm was numb and his shoulder groaning in pain and all Harry could remember was the memory of a gravestone angel capturing him in a circle of stone arms, he snapped awake his breath hitching in panic, ready to fight, to die.

Reality was stark and sudden against his bitter blurred dreams and when he looked it wasn't the gravestone, it wasn't even a rope that was holding him. It was woman, an exceptional beautiful woman, whose fan of dark hair tickled his nose as he stared at her in total confusion.

Confusion engulfed him and he stared around the rich, modern looking room, bewildered.

The girl/woman gave a little moan and pressed her face more firmly into Harry's chest, her slender arm still coiled around his torso. Harry watched her, his muscles freezing as she yawned against him, her breath hot against his skin. The room was filled with early morning silence, interrupted only by the shifted of the silk sheets that were wrapped around them and faint hum of traffic from somewhere outside. A deep chuckle was a blade through his frozen reality and had him snapping his head around to stare up to at an equally attractive man whose dark hair grazed the olive skin of his cheekbones as he moved. His eyes were a glittering dark blue and they sparkled with something Harry didn't want to understand as he lent down to press his lips against Harry's almost apologetically.

"You know what she's like," he said with a smirk that said that Harry should be smiling in that way right back. Harry didn't know, he didn't know anything in fact. He was pretty sure he just gaped at him.

The man leant over Harry and gave the woman a shove; she groaned and pawed playfully at him, mumbled nonsensical words into Harry bare chest. Harry tried to speak but instead found his attention focused man's spare hand that was resting on his torso in a gesture of intimacy that left him flushing with embarrassment and confusion because he didn't want to understand.

Harry was starting to panic, his heart pressing painfully against his ribs. He felt like he had somehow managed to stumble into someone else's life and at any moment these mysterious sex and sin people would look at him and realise who he was. Fingers caressed his flesh.

He glanced back down to the sleeping woman which was really just an excuse to look away from the man's darkening eyes as he sat on the bed next to Harry, his hand still spreading possessively across his naked chest as Harry tried hard not to pull away. The woman yawned and the Gryffindor almost gasped as identical orbs stared back at him. Her lashes were longer, her eyelids still at half-mast but the colour was a mirror reflection of the man's, harry felt even more horrified as the a sneaking suspicion ran through him. She gave a little smirk and unwrapped herself from him, hot fingers trailing his skin before stretching in a way that made Harry's eyes follow the sleek elegant lines of her body hungrily. He couldn't remember when he had ever seen anyone so beautiful, or so obviously dangerous.

The man's fingers were suddenly caressing his cheek almost jealously. "I know you said you wanted us gone after your friend got here. But if you want..."

There was a hand squeezing his groin and Harry nearly leapt out of his skin in his haste to scramble away. "No" he yelped and with a speed he didn't know he possessed was out of the bed and staring at them in total mortification.

The man and woman, who were so strikingly similar Harry was almost certain they were twins, exchanged uncertain glances. His hip hit the desk behind him and pain laced up his side, he was fairly certain pain didn't exist in these kind of dreams. The twins exchanged another unspoken communication and the man sank into the centre of the bed, legs spread lazily into the silk sheets. He smirked up at Harry in a strange debauched, predatory way that made Harry's throat close up. The woman was walking towards him, hips and hair swinging in a sinful way, even as he stared utterly bewildered and scared at them.

"Innocent, Harry?" the man voiced huskily "we haven't played this one yet"

A slender hand wrapped around his wrist and the woman pressed herself against Harry impossibly close, her mouth wet against his ear. Harry was all but shaking in panic, he didn't know what the hell to do and all he could hear the screaming of his mind going '_ohgodohgodohgod'_.

"Think we can corrupt him, Saul?" Her whispered words were a hot wind in his ear and Harry jumped beneath her hands. They both gave twin sounds of throaty laughter and one of her arms coiled around his hips firmly, fingers splayed across his thigh to still his movements. The man, Saul, grinned so hard Harry thought he was going to split in half, his legs were long and languidly stretched out in front of him, his jeans straining around his erection. Harry felt sick and suddenly realised as a hand traced the material of his boxers that he didn't want this. He really didn't want this and he wouldn't let them have it, the twins were sex and sin and not a thing more and Harry just wasn't like that.

"No" He whispered and snagged the woman's hand, pushed it away with nervous force. "No" he repeated again more forcefully and stepped out of her overwhelming embrace.

The woman sighed and moved away without a word, bending to pick up a shirt that was lying condemningly on the carpet. The man groaned his eyes fluttering close momentarily, "You're a bloody tease".

"No," Harry's voice was harsh even to him and he folded his arms protectively across his naked chest "just leave"

They shrugged in quick acceptance, moving with an easy, sleepy grace to gather their belongings, shrugging on crumpled shirts and zipping up knee high boots. Harry watched with a wary confusion, his heart still in his throat and his brain a great big empty blank as he stared. Just deal with them first he told himself because really he was unable to do anything else.

"See you soon?" They were stood before expectantly: beautiful and dangerous and waiting expectantly on his words. Despite his fear Harry had the vague idea that he was the one in control somehow.

"Yeah" he said after a heavy moment of hesitation because he didn't know what he was meant to say and they both leaned forward to press mirror kisses against his cheeks before slipping from his vision. Harry sagged against the desk behind him, looking around the empty room blankly. He didn't know where he was, he didn't know who they were and he was beginning to think he was entirely mad.

Or maybe just dreaming.

He didn't think he was dreaming, it didn't feel like he was dreaming. He ran a hand through his hair as he tried to think up a logical conclusion to the madness he had just seen. He had been curled up cramped on the Weasley's couch, squashed between a very drunk Ron and flirty Ginny who kept shooting him coy glances despite the fact that she was basically in his lap. There had been a Christmas tree and food and lots of alcohol.

He paused deciding there was only one explanation "Voldermort."

There was a strange and familiar reassurance in blaming Voldermort, Harry had done it a lot since hitting puberty and it never ceased to make him feel better. Maybe he had switched bodies; no one had ever come on to Harry like those twins had done so that would explain the random molestation. Voldermort had obviously switched his body with someone else so he could kill him without his mother's protection.

With that all sorted out Harry set out to find a mirror, swinging open the door that led out of the bedroom with forceful conviction, he ignored the fact that he was still only wearing his boxers.

"Oh" his voice died in his throat and he stood stock still.

Stretched out before in straight lines and white shapes was the most beautiful apartment Harry had ever seen, open-plan and so large his eyes were strained to see everything. He wondered forward wide eyed, trailing his fingers across the white leather couch. The wooden flooring was slippy and cool beneath his bare feet and Harry was positive he had never seen anything so wonderful in his entire life. He had always wanted somewhere like this and had been eagerly awaiting his birthday so he could finally buy himself a place to live that would be his and his alone. Somewhere exactly like this.

Harry staggered to the mirror still slightly dazed by his dream come to life around him. The mirror was a big one and he could see the entirety of his new body.

Except it wasn't really new.

The man before him was so unknown and so familiar all in the same breath that it hurt to look at him, his chest rose in the same hitching breath that Harry's did, green eyes widened with an expression that Harry had done a million times. He reached for him, fingers sliding as it hit the shimmering surface of the mirror.

"Voldermort" he mouthed back at himself and his-not-quite-right-reflection copied the movement. He was himself, still Harry, but different in a hundred subtle ways that left a great blow to his usually plain, awkward appearance.

His first realisation was that he wasn't a skinny runt. He was still slender and long legged; and with a scowl he realised that even here he was a bit of a short arse. But he didn't have the look of abuse that Harry was familiar with, his body was lean instead of emaciated. Well muscled and well, damn, he looked hot.

Harry grinned at his reflection, wondering how old he was meant to be and was this a vision of the future, because he could live with that if it was. He looked at his face, trying to find the age lines, the slight pull at the corners of his eyes, the shadows across his skin.

There was nothing, the face was just as smooth and young as he had left it. His eyes were a little less sunken, his cheeks a little less glass sharp and his hair, Harry grinned, it was his wild mop of black hair but different, styled and expensive looking in a way that Harry had never even thought of trying. He ran a hand across the delicate mess of thick waves and the long tendrils that followed the curve of his jaw and neck.

His skin, which had been sporting a rather nice tan courtesy of an entire summer spent slaving outside for the Dursleys was harsh ivory; Impossible pale against the blackness of his hair, as if he'd never seen the sun a day in his life. Harry frowned a bit at that, it made him look a bit vampire-ish if he was honest, striking but vampire-ish.

Still Harry was almost grinning by the time he left the mirror. This was a dream he decided finally, a strange, slightly perverted dream but if was ok so far.

In this dream he was a different Harry, a Harry who had had a hundred galleon haircut and owned expensive apartments and who apparently had spent nights with beautiful twins and was really, really hot, but it was ok. He wondered vaguely with slight eager apprehension what else would be different.

Harry ran a finger over the edge of one of three abandoned wine glasses, cheeks flushing when the door rattled. He jumped and up spun around just in time to see Draco Malfoy sauntering in.

Harry just gaped at him and wished he was wearing more than a pair of boxers.

Malfoy huffed at s him, sharp features twisting in cruel amusement "For Merlin's sake put on some clothes, Harry"

"What?" his voice was small and had gained that utterly bewildered tone again. His mouth refused to close as well and he doubted even his new super hot looks could make him look any less stupid.

Malfoy's eyebrow quirked, "You ok?" he asked in a tone that really didn't sound all that bothered but he glanced at Harry sharp eyed as he removed his gloves, throwing them lazily onto the massive untouched table to his left, his skin was flushed from the cold, a tint of pink brushing his cheeks that made him seem less untouchable and razor edged. He glanced around the room with something akin to relief flashing across his features.

"Em, well," Harry ran a hand helplessly through his hair. Then Malfoy was bearing over him in three quick strides, an icy hand gripping his chin.

"What have you done to yourself?" he asked and pushed Harry's fringe away, tracing a finger across the shiny flesh of the familiar lightning bolt scar. Harry pulled away tensely, ignoring Malfoy's scowl, his hand falling across his forehead.

"I've had that for ages" he answered and stiffened at Draco's narrowed suspicious gaze.

"No you haven't" he stated simply.

Harry gave a weak shrug and looked at his feet nervously. "Err,"

"Articulate as ever I see" the blonde youth snapped; his tone suddenly brittle. Harry glanced up, he couldn't keep up with Malfoy's mood swings and he wondered if the other-Harry managed to either.

"I see that your mutt of a Godfather isn't here. Joy." Malfoy shrugged off his coat, slumping with lazy elegance into the corner of the white leather couch, his eyes level with the three glasses of wine. "Well, go get dressed"

Harry stumbled away before it finally dawned on him what Malfoy had said.

"Sirius?"

"Yes that it generally what you call him. Harry will you please put some clothes?" Malfoy's voice was strained enough to make Harry glance at him. The boy didn't look at him and instead picked at his manicured nails.

Harry glanced at his own equally polished fingers. Strange world.

Unable to think of what else to do, he plodded back into the bedroom he had come out of, frowning at the bare room. Where would he put his clothes? Malfoy was shuffling about next door and the familiar sound of life was comforting because despite its beauty he was beginning to realise how sterile and empty the apartment was. There wasn't a single personal touch in the entirety of the other-Harry's bedroom.

Harry fumbled through the draws, pushing extravagant clothes away until he found some soft jeans and a dark shirt, preening only slightly when he caught a glance of himself in the mirror. Mostly it was just so he didn't have to think about the fact that Malfoy was lounging around all friend like outside.

This was a really weird dream. He almost wanted back the twins.

"That's disgusting. Did you purposely pick it or do you need your eyes correcting again?" Malfoy was leaning against the door frame, a look of horror across his features and his pale hair bright in the dim light of the other-Harry's bedroom.

"I don't have glasses" Harry fingers had flown up to his face and he nearly prodded his eyes out in his rush to find the familiar frames.

"Of course not, like you'd ever wear glasses voluntarily" the youth gave a little snort of amusement as if the idea was that laughable. Harry felt mildly offended.

"Well what should I wear?" he asked, pulled at the soft material of his shirt in irritation because did it really matter what he wore. It was just clothes at the end of day and he was pretty sure they shouldn't matter that much. By the look of concentration on Malfoy's face he guessed the boy wouldn't agree with him.

"Take that off, it makes you look like a Weasley" the youth snapped over his shoulder as he started to tear through other-Harry's closet.

Harry narrowed his eyes at him feeling a surge of loyalty for Ron and his family. "Now just one minute Malfoy.."

"Malfoy?" Draco's steel grey eyes were boring a hole through him suddenly and Harry clamped up nervously. "You never call me that. What's got into you do today?"

Harry and Draco stared at each other for a one awful tense moment and the Gryffindor was almost ready to tell the whole story. This wasn't his life, he was in another Harry's body, he wasn't friends with Malfoy and had been molested by a pair of incestuous twins.

"I.."

"Has your father called?"

"My father?" the words slammed so hard into Harry that he sank bonelessly onto the bed, the word pounding in his ears like a mantra. His father, his father was "Alive?"

Draco's metallic eyes were all liquid mercury when he finally looked at him again, glowing with more emotion than Harry thought he was capable of, his hand lifted up like he wanted to reach out to him but he hesitated and dropped his limbs abruptly, "Don't let him get to you, Harry" he said fiercely instead, "he's got bad hair anyway."

The ridiculousness of the final statement made Harry laugh out-loud "so have I"

"Maybe once, but then you met me" Draco sniffed with a type of arrogance that Harry wasn't sure was real or not. "Now, put these on"

Harry was engulfed by a pile of new clothes and found himself doing what he had done before with the twins; just going through the motions and trying not to think too hard about the situation he found himself in because it was too complicated and strange. His Godfather was still alive. James was alive, did that mean Lily was too?

A Family.

Harry felt sick to his stomach when Draco had finally finished dressing him. The other boy eyes were sharp and silver as he examined him, his cool gaze grazing his form. Harry didn't like that and he didn't like the situation he was in anymore, he felt like a voyeur watching someone's life and the implication of his parents made him jealous and angry and confused, so he snapped at Draco. It was easy because he didn't like the boy, because he remembered years of painful hexes and bloody mouths and this new friend left the hair on his neck prickling uneasily.

"Don't look at me like that" he all but snarled, shoving the blonde haired boy as he moved out the bedroom. "Why are you here anyway?"

Draco watched him, his lips pressed so firmly together they were disappearing into the whiteness of his face. "Why am I here?"He repeated, sounding angry and hurt all at the same time as he stood framed by the bedroom door, all icy and glass shards.

Harry spun around to glare at him, his memories plastering a sneer on Draco's face. "Don't just copy what I say"

"Why don't you tell me Harry" Draco retorted coolly, his voice barely level. "You told me to come so I came. You're such a little bastard you know that. I thought... I thought that after ... I thought this would be some sort of horrible Potter plan where you'd show me how much better you are than me and how stupid I was in thinking I could trust you. But it wasn't and then you act like nothing happened and then you ask me why I came?"

Harry was confused, he had no idea what Draco was on about. He could draw some vague conclusions but didn't actually understand anything and all he could do was gape at Draco watching while the faint flush of uncontained emotion brushed the boy's white features.

"I don't understand" he whispered finally.

"Don't understand." Draco hissed back at him, eyes flashing with emotion. He strode closer, iron fingers griping Harry's upper arms angrily and shook him a little "How can you not understand"

Harry struggled against Draco's vice like grip vainly as the boy shook him.

"You're the most conniving, emotional stunted, horrible person I've ever met"

Finger tips were digging into his cheeks and Draco's mouth was suddenly plastered against his own and the kiss was all clashing teeth and lips pressed so hard against each other they ached and throbbed in protest. Harry had never felt anything quite like it, his few kisses had been soft and decidedly female and the feel of Draco's flat chest and sharp boned body left him floundering in confusion. His hands pressed against the boy's hard chest, panicking.

Draco released his lips abruptly, his forehead pressing against Harry's painfully. "I love you stupid git, I love you and I hate you so much."

The boy gave one single look into Harry's eyes looking for something he most definitely didn't possess before he flew out away, slamming the front so hard the ceiling groaned. Harry's knees were shaking so much he let himself slump to the ground.

He didn't know much about the world he had found himself thrown in. He didn't know much about Draco or his parents. But he was beginning to get a pretty vivid picture of other-Harry. It wasn't an exactly nice one either. He was a Slytherin git who had casual sex and lived by himself instead of with his parents, who it sounded like he wasn't all to friendly with. He was materialistic and vicious. Harry put the piece together easily enough. The other Harry had known Draco liked him and told him to come here so he could flaunt off his bed partners, bed partners that weren't Draco. What was worse was that Draco had half expected it.

This other-Harry was cruel.

Harry lent his head against his knees, disgusted at the thought that he was inhabiting the other's body.

He was really starting to miss home now.

* * *

**Author's note**: _what to say about this? This is an experiment. It won't be all that long; the whole thing takes place in less than a week and it's pretty dark._

_This story does contain slash and het, don't flame because there was a warning, however it's doubtful there will actual be any true pairing. This Harry isn't the Harry these people know and he won't be staying long enough for any true pairings to occur. _

_I would like some feedback for this, it's an experimental attempt at something new and if anyone is interested in being a **beta** please say so, I am in desperate need._

_**Reviews make the world go round and stop homicidal authors from coming round. **_


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